Wicked Awake

by Merrill David

  Jake had continued to box in his spare time for fun and as a way to keep up with his cardiovascular training. He still had the endeavor to someday become a professional fighter after defending his country. For that reason, Jake naturally jumped at this opportunity to compete again, even if only for a month-long tournament.

  Although he had never boxed in a ring, Danny Camacho was quick to sign up for the tournament as well. He wasted no time in starting his trash talk, making it known to everyone within earshot that he was going to “kick everyone’s ass and win the whole thing.”

  Danny and Jake each fought and beat two other opponents on the way to the championship fight, where they met to battle for what would soon become an annual tradition, the crowning of the title “Pendleton’s Semper Fi -King of the Ring.”

  In their much-anticipated championship bout, Jake jumped out to an early lead. He was flying off the ropes and ripping off punches with his right hand to Camacho’s torso primarily. A couple of good headshots got mixed in as well.

  Jake Hathaway was obviously a very good fighter; his skills were polished and evident. Camacho’s style was quite contrary, as he was very strong and punched very hard. Danny’s problem was that, due to his wildness, many of his blows did not land on their target. He still had knocked out his previous two opponents easily. Neither of those fighters, however, had exhibited the boxing prowess of Captain Hathaway.

  Jake was taking his time, placing his shots, stepping to the side looking for an opening that he might not see in front. Through the first couple of rounds, he proved to be the early aggressor, with the punch numbers favoring him, landing 30 punches to just 17 for Camacho.

  Camacho was becoming winded, making it more difficult for him to slip punches. He was strong and tough but was starting to feel Jake’s multitude of quick jabs that were beginning to slow him down. He knew that his time was quickly winding down. He knew he had to connect with some power shots to knock his rival out and end this thing.

  Camacho now was depending less on his ability to sidestep away from Jake’s blows but rather was doing his best to block the shots with his gloves. He was attempting to pick his spots, and to pace himself until the right moment presented itself. He was waiting for the precise second in which he could unload with a power strike.

  By round three, Jake was in the zone, throwing combinations, coming at Camacho from different angles. Danny was not able to anticipate these shots. Jake was showcasing a very smart fight.

  This was just like Jake had always dreamed: fighting in front of a large crowd. He was showing off some of the skills he had obtained through years of sparring at the Y. And moves he had picked up through the close guidance of Grandpa Bill.

  Jak e’s momentary lapse in focus startled him. He knew he had to rid his mind of any distractions, so he took a step back to get out of Camacho’s line of fire while he regained his composure. This awkward back step caused Jake’s boot to drag on the canvas and he staggered backwards.

  Jake spun around to catch himself from falling, and he stood straight up with his back now facing Camacho. Jake quickly bladed his body then turned to face his opponent. Camacho’s right gloved fist pummeled Jake’s left side of his jaw. POWWWWW!!!

  The Marine Captain heard the echo of the collision in his skull and felt the pulsating vibrations of pain racing throughout as well. The muffled sounds of the crowd yelling “get up!” were what clued Jake into the fact that he had been knocked out and was lying face down on the mat.

  He had never been hit this hard, never been knocked out. Stars were swirled around his head, and they were not the stars some of the generals in the arena wore on their collars. The referee began to give a standing eight count as Jake staggered to his knees and wobbled onto his feet like a newborn fawn standing on its own accord for the first time. The referee reached eight, then moved back two steps and instructed Jake to walk toward him and held his arms out. Jake lifted his gloves but was still unsteady on his feet, and the referee ended the bout, ruling that Camacho had won on a TKO.

  For the rest of his military career, Jake would continuously be reminded by Camacho of the fight in which he ‘pummeled Jake into submission’ and won the title of “Semper Fidelis - King of the Ring” for that year.

  Chapter Five - The Village Idiots

  Operation Anaconda, Al Anbar Province, Iraq (approx. 8 years earlier) Since the Invasion of Iraq in the previous years, U.S. military forces had been stationed in and around the Al Anbar province of Iraq. Their primary objective was to control the Haditha Dam, a major hydroelectric installation. The area had seen several clashes between U.S. forces and insurgent groups since the beginning of the war. Hundreds of fatalities were lost on both sides. Conditions had been deteriorating under military rule. Attacks on U.S. troops as well as executions of suspected informants were common.

  It was November 19thin the eighth year of Jake’s service. An improvised explosive device, or IED, composed of 155 mm artillery shells and explosive-filled propane tanks was buried under loose dirt and rubble in a roadway heavily traveled by the US troops in the Al Anbar province.

  When a Humvee transporting the 3/2 Kilo Company, 3rd Platoon Marines drove through that portion of the byway, the vehicle rolled over the device. This caused the IED to explode, splitting the vehicle in half and ejecting three of the squad. They were killed abruptly when their heads contacted the hard-compacted desert ground and/or by being struck with the flying Humvee debris.

  Naturally the troops were all devastated by the loss of their comrades, and particularly affected were the guys from the killed soldiers’ unit. This included those from the West Coast 11th MEU, such as Jake and Camacho and their team. For the 11th MEU had been assigned to perimeter control in and around the Al Anbar Province and had been fighting valiantly to protect the lives of those who resided in the region and were thought not to be outwardly evil or militant. These citizens seemed for the most part to be victims of circumstance, just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  They were just like those of any other culture, trying to live their lives out in peace in a world better known for its violence and inhumanities. Corporal Camacho was the first to learn of the Humvee bombing, and he, along with two of his comrade soldiers set out to the Province to get answers as to who may have initiated such an attack.

  They arrived in the hot dusty region of Al Anbar in their olive camouflage Jeep. But before Camacho and Privates Fiedler and Blackhoof could even exit their vehicle, the sneers and jeers from the village people rained down upon the truth seekers.

  Unexpectedly, the villagers seemed to be celebrating and rivaling in the death of the United States soldiers. An American flag-burning demonstration was occurring in front of them, and despite them, in the town square.

  Never one to turn the other cheek when provoked or slighted, the hot-headed Camacho took the incidents unveiling before him as a personal attack. Not known to be one who ever acted for the love of his country or even just because it seemed like the “right thing to do,” Camacho cared only about what was good for him or his personal cause, or because it would be fun.

  It is unknown which of these reasons incited the ignorant one to act, but Danny jumped from his driver seat, his M16A4 service rifle in his left hand and a FGM-148 Javelin anti-tank guided missile strapped over his left shoulder.

  Camacho was followed by Fiedler and Barrett Blackhoof, who were similarly armed. The trio of doom began to walk through the streets of the villa, firing their semi-automatic rifles into the crowds of once jubilant picketers.

  With casualties and the incapacitated injured lying all about on the ground, those Iraqis who were capable began to flee the streets in pursuit of shelter within their simple structure homes. Despite the bloodshed they had caused thus far, the GI’s were not yet satisfied in their redemption. They continued their rampage, throwing grenades onto the roofs of houses, with the subsequent detonations causing the structures to collapse. Untold numbers of adult and child occupants w
ere left lying beneath the resulting dust and rubble.

  The Americans decided to enter the fragged shacks in pursuit of those avoiding retribution. The first three buildings they infiltrated appeared to be uninhabited, or at least unoccupied at the time. It was hard to tell the difference between the two because even houses that were lived in had very little furnishings or personal effects.

  Next, they set foot in the first structure in which the three soldiers encountered people. A large family appeared to be taking shelter in a corner behind their dining table which was propped up on its side. The square table these Iraqis normally broke bread over was now being utilized much like a large wooden shield to protect them from harm.

  Fiedler pointed his M16A4 muzzle in their direction and began to apply pressure to the sensitive hairtrigger when Camacho boomed “NO!! I’ve got something better.”

  Camacho pulled an empty syringe and a small medicine bottle out of his green canvas backpack and stuck the needle end into the bottle to load the syringe. The unstable commando then walked over to the corner of the room where the clan attempted to shelter themselves. Camacho, holding the syringe in his left hand, grabbed hold of the table with his right hand and slung the wooden furniture piece across the room and into a wall, the collision causing it to smash into a magnitude of timber fragments.

  “Hold them fuckers still!” Camacho instructed his cohorts. Fiedler leapt forward and placed hands one at a time on the mother, father, and four children of ages ranging from four to fourteen, holding them still while Barrett Blackhoof steadily pointed the firing end of his assault rifle at them all and Camacho injected each of them in the neck to shoot them up with a substantial dose of the bottle’s contents.

  Captain Jake Hathaway had left the base as soon as he heard gunfire coming from the nearby village. He arrived on the scene just in time to see his three comrades exiting the shanty in which the injected family resided.

  Camacho held the medicine bottle in his left hand and with his right hand, he threw the used needle to the dirt ground and stomped on it with his standard issue size 11 combat boots.

  “What the hell did you do?” Jake interrogated. “Well sir, you know these vitamins and supplements we have been v olunteering to take for the last year and a half or so as part of your so-called Zeus Project? It seems like you were right about them making us more muscular, energized, and with a higher tolerance for pain. So, we figured what’s good for us should be equally as good for our friends here!” Camacho articulated.

  Hathaway was furious, his face beet red and his top about to blow. “Do you know what you have done? You guys have crossed the fucking line! We are here to protect these people! Whether you like them or their politics or not, we have a job to do, and what you guys have done is committed war crimes. Murder! This is the kind of shit that the United Nations gets involved in. You guys are fucked and rightfully so!”

  Camacho doubled over as his grin quick ly turned to a hideous cackle. “It doesn’t matter, Captain, ‘because we were all fucked when we started taking your Zeus Juice. Funny how you neglected to warn us about these side effects that all three of us are now experiencing.”

  Fiedler added, “Yeah, Captain, with all due respect, I must say that as your guinea pigs, you have fucked us up! I’m angry all the time, like I want to kill something, someone, anyone even these guys I work with here. I feel inhuman like an animal. I’ve been having dreams in which I was eating the flesh of somebody. I’m not sure who though.”

  Fiedler expressed his concerns as well. “Yeah, boss – the same goes for me. I have been feeling powerful as hell, wide awake, robust as shit! But I have some issues too. Like, for example, I got some fingers and toes that are turning blue and the skin is getting hard and I’m starting to lose feeling there. It’s kind of like parts of me are slowly dying.”

  Camacho joined back in. “So, we figured, you know what, if Captain Hathaway says this ‘Zeus Juice’ is so good for us, let’s give some to our friends here in the village. They certainly could use some supplements like these. Ain’t that what friends are for?”

  Jake realized that the senseless murders his soldiers had committed in the town square and the injection of an innocent family could result in the allegations of war crimes. This would undoubtedly draw negative attention internationally. Jake became enraged.

  “Go straight back to camp and prepare a memorandum about the role each of you played in this incident! And don’t be surprised if you end up locked up or discharged after our investigation!”

  The media soon caught wind of this incident and began to investigate, reporting their findings to the Pentagon, who then launched their own official United States criminal investigation. As a result, it was determined that 27 unarmed Afghanistan civilians - including children as young as two years old and women - were killed by the three members of the 11th MEU.

  During an interview with Pentagon officials, Corporal Camacho and his co-defendants all insisted that upon their arrival into the village, they were fired upon by multiple insurgents in the street. The three Americans returned fire, killing several of the enemy assailants.

  When se veral of the gunmen fled and ran into houses to hide, the GI’s began searching door to door for them. After clearing each house and determining it was vacant, they would blow the structure up with a grenade to prevent the enemies from circling back around and occupying it for shelter.

  At no point in the investigation was there any discussion regarding the details of what transpired six family members who were injected. Apparently, no one knew about this incident other than the GI’s involved. The family in mention had completely vanished. It was as if they had fallen through a crevice in the earth’s crust and were now trapped within the inner core.

  As a result of their investigation, Pentagon officials and their Intelligence Squad determined that their photos and witness statements provided by the Iraqis were inconsistent with the three Marines’ report of a firefight. There was no evidence to suggest that the three American soldiers had encountered any form of resistance or attack and that there was probably no threat to begin with.

  Camacho, Barrett Blackhoof, and Levi Fiedler were all court marshaled on 27 counts of murder in what the prosecutors characterized as the Al Anbar Massacre, and Captain Jake Hathaway was subpoenaed and testified against the three accused.

  Prior to the trial, Corporal Camacho made a deal with the military prosecution team and testified against Fiedler and Blackhoof in exchange for probation and an honorable discharge from the Marine Corps. Camacho testified, blaming the entire incident on the other two. Fiedler and Blackhoof each got twenty-year prison sentences while Camacho walked away without so much as a blemish being added to his record.

  Months went by, and Jake heard no mention of Camacho. Even Jake’s military connections, who kept close tabs on everyone even after they left the Corps, had no idea where Camacho had gone. It was almost as if he had vanished, disappeared from all sight and sound.

  In the middle of Jake’s second year with DPD, he had just started train ing his recruit, Mack McElroy when he heard the rumor from his Corps buddies that Camacho had resurfaced. He had been accepted into the Federal Bureau of Investigation as a rookie special agent.

  Jake found this revelation to be quite disturbing. Camacho was not mentally stable enough to be trusted greeting people at the door of the local Walmart, never mind being a special agent for the FBI.

  Chapter Six - Holy Cadaver

  Earle Cabell Federal Building and U.S. District Court, Downtown Dallas (Present Day) Ferron continued his closing arguments: “Camacho told you what happened when he and his companion agents tracked the defendant down as he returned to the Dallas Police Central Division station house … the agents arrested Jake without incident.

  “You saw photos of his appearance at that time - blood and brains sprayed across his face

  - a bite mark on his right shoulder where victim Holly tried to defend herself from this killer. Ja
ke’s uniform was taken as evidence - the blood and brain tissue matter all contained DNA that tested back to both Holly and Rich.

  “Jake was also in possession of a Taser. The same one he used to sadistically e lectrically shock victim Rich’s face. Then, Jake finished off his victim in a vicious stab to the head with a huge metal Marine knife. Jake still had this knife on him when he was detained by the agents.

  “And as for the other deadly weapon he used - that vicious trained assassin k9 named Roscoe - you saw the pictures taken of Roscoe when the agents first saw him back at the station. Much like the defendant, Roscoe was covered with blood, skin, and tissue on his face and all over his matted fur.”

  Ferron produced large blown-up color images of Roscoe for the jury.

  “Look at the teeth on this do g - look at his body. This is not a police officer K9, this isn’t no hero dog like Lassie or Rin Tin Tin - if you are old enough to recall who they are. This is a seventy-five-pound musclebound, trained-to-kill, Belgian Malinois that the defendant Jake used as a weapon of destruction to attack and injure victims Holly and Rich.

  “Roscoe was used to incapacit ate both victims - chewing, gnawing on, and biting their extremities and torso so they could no longer move their shredded arms and legs to defend themselves. Roscoe’s deadly dagger-like teeth tore those two-innocent people to bits.

  “Mr. Swanson, the pro fessional Police K9 trainer, explained how these dogs are controlled by their human partners through verbal commands. Roscoe wasn’t motivated on his own to attack Holly and Rich. Roscoe didn’t wake up that day and think to himself, ``Hmmm, I think I might go to that baby’s birthday party and attack some harmless unarmed humans for no reason.

  “This is all on Jake. Jake gave the orders, and Roscoe complied like a soldier. Like the trained killing weapon soldier dog that he is. And when Holly and Rich could no longer move to flee the onslaught or defend the attack, Jake finished them off– causing one final devastating blow to each of them - stabbing Holly in the face with a kitchen knife and then by thrusting that seveninch stainless steel blade of his K-Barknife through Rich’s skull.”